by M. H. Bonham
Anger flashed in Rhyn’athel’s eyes, and before Ni’yah could respond, he held the wolf-god off the floor by the neck and shoved him against a wall. The tip of Teiwaz pressed into Ni’yah’s throat. “I should cut your tongue out,” Rhyn’athel said.
Ni’yah’s brass eyes glanced at the Sword of Power. “For speaking the truth?” he said, his voice strained.
“For your annoying prattle.”
“For the truth,” Ni’yah croaked. “Areyn has you cowed. He will take the Nine Worlds from you bit by bit, until there is nothing left and you can no longer stop him.”
“But the Nine Worlds…”
“The Nine Worlds were ravaged before and we managed to rebuild. Is our power so weak, we cower at creating again? Are you willing to let Areyn gain the upper hand in this war?” He paused and a gleam entered his eyes. “Do you want him to make love to Lachlei?”
Rhyn’athel’s fist closed tighter around Ni’yah’s throat, but he did not move the Sword. He met Ni’yah gaze with fierce determination. “Areyn wouldn’t dare.”
“Areyn would defile her. He’d rape her and force her to bear his demon offspring — the sons that should be yours…”
Rhyn’athel released Ni’yah. The wolf-god landed unsteadily on his feet and ran his fingers over his sore neck.
“Has your time as a mortal made you Wyrd-blind?” Ni’yah said, still rubbing his neck. “Her godling sons will change the balance.”
Rhyn’athel shook his head. “There’s a fork in the Wyrd strands.”
“Your sons may bring Areyn’s ultimate destruction or Areyn’s sons may bring yours.”
“But Lachlei is the junction,” he said at last. “She doesn’t love me, Ni’yah. She loves Fialan, and I can’t even bring him back.”
“Perhaps not now,” said Ni’yah. “I think when this war is over there should be some changes, my brother.”
Rhyn’athel nodded, sheathing his sword. “I won’t take her as Areyn would, but I won’t have her be the pawn of the gods or the pawn of the Wyrd. It must be her choice.”
“We are all pawns of the Wyrd in one way or another,” Ni’yah said. “But you are right, my brother. Lachlei must decide. And so a mortal woman holds the fate of the Nine Worlds and the destiny of the gods.” He grinned wryly. “I couldn’t have thought up more mischief if I had tried.”
Rhyn’athel chuckled. “Indeed.”
“Go to her, brother. I think she’ll surprise you.”
*****
The sun rose above the Darkling Plain, casting all in its red glow. Lachlei rode forward with Redkellan at her side. She swung Fyren, her full anger unleashed on the demon hounds. Several tried to attack her, but she gathered her power and flung them away in a blast of supernatural fire. All around her, she could hear her name as a battle cry. The Lochvaur, Laddel, and Elesil took up the cry and began slaying demons, renewed by her presence. The demon hounds and Braesan fled and disappeared as the warriors converged.
Lachlei raised her hand, amid the shouts of victory. She was covered in blood and looked weary. Cahal rode towards her, a grin on his face. Following him were the other commanders. “I thought you might need some help,” she said.
“Yes, we could use a little help,” Cahal said.
“It looked like you might,” said Redkellan.
Lachlei nodded. “This is Redkellan. He’s agreed to aid us.”
Cara looked at the Redel prince in mistrust. “I didn’t know that the Redel were so eager to aid the Lochvaur.”
Redkellan gazed coolly on Cara. “A Silren? I thought you served Areyn.”
Cara drew her blade and lunged. Cahal pulled her back. “Easy, they just saved our hides.”
“I don’t care,” she snapped. “Redel dogs!”
“Enough, Silren!” Lachlei snapped. “If anyone should be angry, it should be me for your kindred’s role in nearly destroying mine. I take it you’re one of the dissenters?”
Cara nodded. “I am Cara, daughter of Silvain.”
“Good, we can use you,” Lachlei said. “I see Elesil here — where’s Conlan?”
A silence followed.
“Conlan’s dead,” Cara said. “A demon killed him tonight.”
Cahal looked at Lachlei. “Where’s Rhyn? He was supposed to rescue you.”
A shadow crossed Lachlei’s face. “I don’t know,” she said. “He left.”
Laddel stared at her. “Will he return?”
Lachlei met his gaze. “I sent Telek to find him. It depends on how persuasive he is.”
Then, you know he is Ni’yah, Laddel mindspoke.
Yes, she replied heavily. And I know who Rhyn is.
You don’t know if he will return?
No.
Laddel’s face became grim. Then, we are lost.
CHAPTER Seventy-Six
Lachlei dismounted her steed and stood, wounded and bloody, on a hill overlooking Darkling Plain. She was weary and had not even the reserves to heal herself. Her arm ached from a cut she received from a Yeth hound, and it hurt to even breathe. She stretched slowly, rubbing her cramped thigh muscles with her good hand. She could still carry a sword — that was all that mattered now.
The shadows were growing long again. The hours since the morning victory had slipped by all too fast. Her warriors recovered what few clothyard shafts and adamantine-tipped arrows there were. They had pulled the wounded deep inside their lines, hoping to heal them. Lachlei had done what she could, not even bothering to heal herself now. Her own safety seemed meaningless with so many wounded. Even now, she could see the torches of Areyn’s army marching ever closer to her own weary troops. They needed to flee — to escape Areyn unrelenting pursuit — but they also needed rest.
“Lachlei!” Cahal spoke. She turned and looked at her second-in-command.
“Cahal,” she said.
“You know we found Wynne and Haellsil.”
She caught her breath.
“They’re alive and with the noncombatants,” he said quickly. “Chi’lan Kerri got them out of the city before Areyn razed it.”
Lachlei lowered her head and wept. “Thank the gods,” she whispered. “What of our noncombatants?”
“Ten thousand at most,” he said.
“And our warriors?”
Cahal shook his head. “It’s grim, Lachlei. We have about a thousand Chi’lan left. Our Lochvaur are maybe twenty thousand. The Laddel, maybe five thousand. The Elesil are twenty thousand and the Redel at about ten thousand. Maybe sixty thousand total.”
“Sixty thousand,” she sighed. “I would normally dream for such an army, and yet it seems like nothing compared to Areyn’s might. He could bring a hundred thousand — five hundred thousand, a million — against us because he has the dead. How can we fight against that?”
“He also has the Eltar now as well as the Silren,” Cahal said. “Who knows what other kindreds will fall to him? But our army isn’t unified either. Already, we’ve had to break up fights between the Elesil and Redel — they’re enemies, you know.”
“I know,” Lachlei said heavily. “Damn it, Cahal, why do we have to fight each other?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. All it does is serve the death god.” He paused. “It’s not safe out here, Lachlei. Come back to the tent, get something to eat and have Laddel take a look at that arm.”
“All right, I will in a little while,” she said, trying to smile. “Go ahead without me — I’ll be with you soon.”
Lachlei watched as Cahal mounted his horse and rode back. She could see it in his eyes that he did not expect to live through this final battle. None of them did. Without Ni’yah or Rhyn’athel, they were doomed.
In despair, her thoughts turned to Rhyn. How Lachlei longed to see him again. Part of her knew what he was, and yet she still could not believe it entirely despite the fact that she had spoken to Ni’yah who admitted Rhyn was the warrior god. If Rhyn were Rhyn’athel, he would certainly have a plan to get them out of this.
&n
bsp; But that was not why she missed Rhyn so, Lachlei now admitted to herself. She missed him. Ni’yah had showed her she had fallen in love, despite herself. Lachlei wished she had not banished him. Rhyn had loved her deeply — perhaps more deeply than even Fialan had loved her.
Snarling pulled her from her reverie. Lachlei’s horse screamed as a Yeth Hound leapt on her. She rolled with the massive demon on top of her, and her injured arm flailed upward to protect her throat. The Yeth sank its dagger teeth into her arm and shook, breaking bone and sinew. Lachlei screamed in pain and fought to grasp her sword or dagger hilt — anything to fight the demon hound. She brought her legs up and kicked, but the Yeth was relentless.
Suddenly, it was gone. Lachlei lay for a moment, her breath ragged and painful with every shallow gulp of air. Her arm was in shreds, and the familiar coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Her vision blurred, and she saw a glowing warrior astride a stallion, wielding a Sword of Power. The Yeth Hounds slunk away from the warrior, and he rode towards her. She closed her eyes, too weak and overcome with pain to speak. When she opened them again, she looked into a familiar face.
“Rhyn?” she whispered, but her voice came out as a croak.
“Shhhh,” Rhyn whispered to her. “You’re badly wounded.” He touched her, and she saw the glow around him once more.
“Am I dreaming?” she murmured. She began to feel warm, and the pain disappeared.
“Shhhh,” he repeated. He touched her ribs where they had broken and punctured a lung. His fingers touched her shredded arm, and it became whole again. The damage was extensive — had he not arrived, Lachlei would have died.
Lachlei opened her eyes. “You’ve come back to me,” she said confused. “Or am I dead, and you too? Will we have to join Areyn’s legions?”
Rhyn smiled. “No, we’re not dead,” he said. “And I doubt Areyn could have me in his legions.”
Lachlei slid her arms around his neck, pausing for a moment to see that her arm was whole. “Rhyn,” she whispered. “How…?”
“Shhhh, you’re still healing.”
“No, listen to me,” she said. Rhyn fell silent and met her gaze. “Gods, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I was wrong. I was wrong, Rhyn.” She pulled his face towards hers. “I love you.” She pulled him to her and kissed him.
It was as though all the penned-up emotions inside her were released. Energy crackled between them, white hot, as she felt his eager response. He took her in his arms and held her, his silver eyes filled with desire and longing for her.
“Areyn’s army,” she said.
Rhyn shook his head. “Don’t worry, beloved, there will be time enough for battle. Areyn won’t reach us yet.”
Lachlei stared into his eyes. “The greatest warrior,” she whispered. “And I was too blind to see.”
Rhyn’s lips caressed her throat. “You were preoccupied, beloved.” He slid her helm off and slid the mail coif to her shoulders. He began to untie her tresses and ran his fingers through her red-gold hair.
Lachlei returned his embrace as she slid from her armor. “You should have told me, Rhyn’athel. You should have told me.”
CHAPTER Seventy-Seven
Ni’yah loped into the Lochvaur camp in wolf form. The sentries backed away as the huge silver wolf, glazed in light, came bounding in. He transmuted into his Eleion form, a Laddel warrior with radiant armor and a Sword of Power that glowed white-hot. Many of the sentries had nocked arrows, but lowered their bows.
“I am Ni’yah,” the wolf-god said. “If you want to live, you’d best bring me to Laddel and Cahal.”
Laddel strode forward through the crowd that was gathering, followed by Cahal, Tamar, and Cara. The Laddel King stared at his father for a moment. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Do you know what this means?”
“Fine way to greet your sire,” Ni’yah snapped. “How many wounded do you have?”
“Do you know this creature?” Chi’lan Kian asked, turning to Laddel.
Laddel glanced behind at the Lochvaur apprehensively.
“Tell them who I am,” Ni’yah said.
“Then, the war’s begun,” Laddel whispered.
“It never ended — tell them!”
Laddel turned to the Lochvaur. “This is Ni’yah, brother of Rhyn’athel.”
“Telek is the wolf-god?” Cahal asked. “Then, I was…”
“Your guess, young Lochvaur, was right,” Ni’yah said.
“What does this mean?” Cahal looked around. “Where’s Lachlei — she should know.”
“Lachlei already knows — she’s with Rhyn’athel,” Ni’yah said. “I need your wounded now, and I need you to stop your orders to advance. We wait on Rhyn’athel’s orders.”
A murmur ran through the Lochvaur. “Rhyn’athel? Rhyn’athel is here?” exclaimed Cara. She stared at Ni’yah. “The warrior god is here?”
“Indeed. The Chi’lan know him as ‘Rhyn,’” the wolf-god replied.
Another murmur ran through the Lochvaur. Cahal grinned broadly. “Rhyn? Rhyn has returned?” He stared at the wolf-god. “And he is truly Rhyn’athel as we thought?”
“Rhyn’athel!” laughed Tamar, clapping Cahal on the back. “By the gods! I knew there was more to Rhyn than meets the eye. And here I thought a mere mortal had bested me!” The Chi’lan warriors surrounding them chuckled in appreciation.
“I guess your reputation is still intact,” Cara remarked.
“But what of the death god’s army?” Laddel asked.
“I’ve taken care of that — we have several hours ahead of us to rest and prepare,” Ni’yah replied. “If you’re up to fighting for the warrior god,” he added wryly.
Cahal laughed. He turned to his men. “Rhyn’athel! Rhyn’athel!” he led the cheer.
*****
Lachlei awoke beside the warrior god, still wrapped in his embrace. She slowly turned in his arms and gazed up at the stars. It was still dark, and the stars were still in the same position as they had been when they made love. They lay under his cloak, warm against the chilly air. Lachlei relaxed against him, enjoying the heat and feel of the warrior god’s body, pressed against hers.
“What is wrong, beloved?” Rhyn’athel asked.
“The stars…” she began.
“Time has stopped,” he said simply.
“How?” she began and then laughed. “Of course. What about our army?”
“They are resting,” Rhyn’athel said. “They will need it for the battle.” He kissed her. “Beloved, something troubles you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you really were?”
Rhyn’athel sighed. “I would have, if I thought I could. I had hoped to keep my identity secret long enough to keep the Truce intact. It was foolish notion. It’s complex, beloved, but even I can’t see the entire future. Every time a god interferes, it causes the Wyrd to change. I knew Areyn was here and hoped to stop him before it came to this…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for the deception, beloved, but it was necessary to keep Areyn from knowing that I was involved.”
Lachlei gazed at his face. “Some first-blood I am — I didn’t even recognize a god within my own Chi’lan.”
Rhyn’athel smiled wryly. “It was difficult to keep my identity concealed from you, anyway. But I didn’t lie to you when I told you I was a demon slayer.”
She kissed him. “No, you didn’t.”
“And you would’ve felt differently about me if you had known I was a god.”
Lachlei met his gaze. “Do you believe that?”
“Deities inspire awe and fear, but seldom love,” he said. “Perhaps you might not have, but I couldn’t risk it. Being a god can be lonely, Lachlei. When I saw you for the first time, I knew I had to have you. But to appear to you as a god…”
“You became mortal for me,” she said, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe it.”
Rhyn’athel nodded sheepishly. “Not one of my well-thought out plans,” he admitted.
“Rhyn, I would love you regardless of what you are,” she said, laying her head against his chest. “I am glad you returned. When you left, a part of me died.”
Rhyn’athel smiled at her use of his familiar name. “If there is anyone to blame for my return, it’s Ni’yah.”
“Ni’yah?” she grinned. “I knew that trickster wouldn’t fail me.”
Rhyn’athel stared at her. “You sent him?” he asked incredulously.
“I guess I did. He saved my life, Rhyn. I asked him to convince you to come back.” She kissed him. “I’m glad he did.”
“His meddling brought me here in the first place,” the god remarked.
“I know. He told me.”
Rhyn’athel frowned. “What else did he tell you?”
She slid her arms around his neck. “That you love me very much.” She kissed him again. Rhyn’athel responded, kissing her slowly. She pulled away and gazed into his eyes. “Rhyn,” she whispered. “Not all the kindreds are involved in this — are any of the other gods involved?”
“No, this time it is between Areyn Sehduk and me,” the god said. “The other gods won’t take sides — not this time. Only Ni’yah has joined my side.” He smiled wryly. “Even now, he’s preparing our troops.” He slowly sat up, keeping her pressed against him. “We shouldn’t tarry long, beloved, even if I have stopped time. Areyn will eventually become wise to it.”
Lachlei sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She met his gaze. “Rhyn, there is something else that bothers me — Fialan ...”
“I know,” Rhyn’athel said grimly. “I would’ve prevented Fialan’s death if I could’ve, Lachlei. But Areyn killed Fialan.”
The words made Lachlei shiver, and she pressed her head against the god and wept. He held her gently. “Fialan hates it, I know — I could see it when he fought against us. But he was powerless to do anything.” She looked up again to see the god’s eyes strangely bright.
“I know,” he said. “All the dead serve Areyn, even the Chi’lan. Even my son, Lochvaur…”